


Some Days

by katwalking



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Cisgender, F/M, Masturbation, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6147624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katwalking/pseuds/katwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barely plotted porn. Sid's been having sexy dreams since the Florida road trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Days

Sidney jerks awake, pussy throbbing. She clenches her thighs together, reflexively, and gasps. The hotel room is dark, impersonal, but familiar the way all hotel rooms are at this point in her life. There's absolutely no reason for her clit to be pulsing in time with her heart beat, but it is. Sid closes her eyes again and breathes in and out slowly. This is the third time this week, she's woke up wet and swollen. And just like the previous two episodes nothing comes to mind, no fragments of memory to clue her in to the cause of the lingering warmth between her legs. Sid clenches her thighs together again and shivers. She slides a hand down into her soaked panties. It doesn't take much and when Sid's done, she rolls at of bed gingerly and heads to the shower.

Morning skate is optional, but jitters linger beneath Sid's skin despite the quick orgasm; maybe, some time on ice will help calm her down. Sid sends Flower a text: **Come to practice.** Flower sends back: **:)**.

The locker room is sparse when Sid gets there. Rust and Wilson chatting in a corner, scattered hats and articles of clothing littering empty stalls. Flower bumps Sid's shoulder when she finishes pulling on her practice gear and says, "Geno's not coming. Tanger and Horny are already on the ice, most of the dmen." Sid bites her lip and looks away, cheeks heating. Flower raises an eyebrow and pokes Sid in the cheek. "Are you going to blush forever over Patric's nickname? I thought you were over it.

"It's just not very," Sid pauses,"kid friendly." She wanted to say professional, but none of their nicknames are very professional.

Flower cackles and Rust and Wilson look over. Flower waves at them, cheerily, and they wave back, bemused. Sid rolls her eyes. 

Matters are not improved when as soon as they hit the ice, Flower sings out, "Hattrick Horny, where is my love?" One of the most surprising things about having Patric on their team, now, is how much he loves Flower. The two of them are forever tussling and teasing. Sid can't imagine Patric playing with Rinne the way he plays with Flower, but maybe he did. Sid doesn't know.

Patric beams and skates over to envelope Flower in a bear hug, tilting back to lift her from the ice, pads and all. "My precious Flower," he says, over dramatic, and Flower says, "Damn right."

"Sid," Patric says, warmly. He's smiling big enough to crinkle the skin around his blue eyes. Sid remembers how careful Patric was around her and Flower in the beginning. There were no women on Nashville's team; so, it was a new experience for him. He quickly got over his reserve with Flower, but still seems to pull himself up short around Sid at times. His hair is sticking up in little blond spikes around his head. Sid is suddenly, acutely aware of both the continuing ache between her legs and the sprinkling of reporters in the stands, focused on their little group.

Sid mumbles, "Hey," and "Tanger," and skates off in the direction of the gaggle of defensemen staring raptly at Gonchar. Tanger raises an eyebrow at her, but gamely makes room for her in their circle. It's completely appropriate for her to check in with the defense from time to time. Sid makes sure not to look at the opposite end of the ice where Flower's probably shrugging and telling Patric sometimes Sid's just a weirdo.

**

They lose to the Capitals the next day. The game starts out brilliantly. 2-0 on the backs of goals by Geno and Patric, but slips away during the second period. It's a hard loss. Sid would rather be blown out than lose by 1 after a 2 goal lead. Ovechkin winks at her as the time winds down. Sid ignores his smug face. She does stop by to say a few words to Backstrom. Amazing how such a sweet face hides such a sarcastic soul.

Halfway through the short flight to back to Pittsburgh, Flower turns to face Sid in dark of the cabin and asks, softly, "Something wrong, Sid?" The air around them is still, broken only by the sound of scattered snoring and the occasional leg twitch. Flower's hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, sleep mask pushed up high like a headband. It's a comfort, almost. Flower's asked Sid the same question a multitude of times, countless moments curled together on airplanes, after victories and defeats, exchanging secrets and frustrations. 

Flower's always been good to confide in, slow to judge and happy to give candid advice, sometimes overly so. Flower had been integral in Sid getting over her crush on Geno his rookie year. She'd barely teased Sid at all about her gawking at Geno in the locker room. To be fair, everyone stared at Geno in the locker room. Geno was a lot (had a lot) to get used to.

Time to take a breath and just get it out in the open. The last thing Sid wants is for Flower to stage an Inquisition. "I've been having weird dreams." There, subtle.

Flower's silent for a moment longer, then her dark eyes light up. "Sexy dreams, yeah?" Sid puts her hands over her face and nods. Flower squeaks, excitedly, releasing a torrent of rapid French that Sid misses most of, before saying, "It's been so long since you liked anyone! Who is it?"

Sid shrugs. She really couldn't say for sure. "That's what's weird about it. I'm just waking up..."

"Hot?" Flower's teeth gleam bright in the dim overhead light. Her smile appleling her cheeks and narrowing her eyes. She looks like a cat. " Well, when did dreams start? We'll narrow it down, no?" Flower puts her index finger on her chin and taps twice. "You were acting a bit strange on the Dad's trip, now that I think about it. Lots of hot bodies on the beach," Flower says, knowingly, "but none as hot as Vero."

"Of course not," Sid says loyally, even though Vero would probably just roll her eyes at Flower.

"Not Geno, right?" Flower sounds slightly worried, which is fair, since Geno's engaged and incredibly happy at the moment. Sid shakes her head. Over and done with. Flower sighs with relief, then wrinkles her nose, "Sheary?"

"No," Sid says, louder than she means to, and a couple of blankets rustle.

"Shh." Flower flaps a hand at her. "Okay, not Sheary. Way to be mean, Sid. He's a cutie pie." Flower waggles her eyebrows, "But not your type."

"I think, maybe," Sid starts and stops. 

"What?" Flower asks, leaning in close enough that Sid's eyes start to cross a little.

"I don't think I've been blushing over Patric's nickname." Slow motion shots of Patric playing volleyball in the sand and sun of Florida slide through Sid's mind. The definition of his abs, almost surprising for some reason, the way his board shorts sat low on his waist, exposing that delicious cut of muscle inviting Sid to think about his dick. She remembers the way he seemed to glow in the sunlight and yeah, okay, she shifts in her seat.

Flower's mouth drops open, then snaps shut, before she says, decisively, "No."

No? "What?" Sid says.

"Horny is off limits. I won't let you break him with your devil magic." Flower nods a little to herself.

What the fuck? "Break him? I'm not going to break him. What are you even talking about?" Sid's more than a little mystified at the turn in the conversation.

Flower points an accusing finger at Sid. "Horny is pure and innocent and I know how you operate. I've seen you in action. You've told me _things_."

"First of all," Sid says, patiently, "No one in hockey is pure and innocent. And who in the world have I ruined with my," Sid makes quote fingers ,'devil magic'?" The humor in the conversation is starting to filter through, how quickly Flower went from excited for Sid to get some to warning her off a grown man for his sake. The corners of Sid's mouth twitch upward and Flower reaches out to pinch Sid's arm, lightning quick. "Ow, fuck," Sid hisses. 

"Be serious," Flower says and holds up her hand as if ticking off a list."Jack Johnson, Shea Weber, Jamie Benn, Nathan MacKinnon-"

If Sid's eyes were able to bug out of her head anymore, they'd pop out and be rolling around on the airplane floor. "Nate? What the hell, Flower? I have never-"

Flower keeps talking over her, "Claude Giroux-"

Sid slaps Flowers hands down (carefully). "I've only slept with one of those people! Nate is a kid, for goodness sake. He's Taylor's age! And I wouldn't touch Giroux with a ten foot pole!" Sid squints at Flower. "Did you bump your head in practice?"

"You told me, you and Jack," Flower says and Sid shushes her frantically. 

"Okay, that wasn't even sex, sex and was like ten years ago!" God, was Sid never going to be free of her youthful indiscretions?

"Sex, sex," Flower says, mockingly, and crosses her arms over her chest. It looks awkward because of the way Flower's lying on her side facing Sid. "Oh, and I suppose, Giroux just had a spontaneous change of heart at Worlds and it had nothing to do with seeing your naked ass in the locker room? And Jamie and Shea just followed you around the Olympics like whipped dogs for no reason?"

"Yes?" Sid ventures. "Giroux has never seen my naked ass, by the way."

"There are pictures of him standing naked in the background of pictures of you and Segs," Flower says.

"I never said I didn't see his naked ass," Sid says, exacerbated. Giroux's ass was pasty and white like the rest of him. Although, if Sid felt like being fair, Giroux's ass was also high and pert, probably nice to pinch. "Anyway, back to the point, I've only slept with one of those people and Shea's perfectly fine." Not broken in the slightest, just incredibly, deliciously used. The Olympics were such a good time. 

Flower harrumphs. She doesn't look convinced of Sid's innocence.

Well, decision made. "I'm going to fuck him," Sid says, and grins at Flower's gasp of dismay. "Going to ride that dick, going to-," Sid cuts off when Flower places a hand over her mouth. 

"This better not end with Horny getting traded or murder." Flower points at Sid again with her free hand, "And I mean me murdering you." Sid grins against Flower's palm.

**

The game against New York is ridiculous. Ridiculous and great, because they win and come away with 2 incredibly important points. The win is overshadowed by Lundqvist losing his mind and flipping over the goalie net after being run over by his own teammate. Sid shakes her head, just, what the hell? As soon as Sid hears Flower's interview, she knows Flower's going to get it from the press. Baby stuff. Classic, but the media never misses a chance to shit on their team, taking particular delight in smearing Sid and Flower. Sid's willing to bet money they somehow manage to make Flower's comments a direct result of Sid's poor leadership in the room and on the ice and on the moon. Fucking wherever. 

Geno puts Flower in a headlock after the press has cleared out and croons, "Baby stuff, good one, Flower." Flower punches him in the side until he lets go and Geno pouts at her. "You like Horny best, now. I know." Geno says, sadly, and Flower's eyes light up.

"Good game, guys," Sid says hastily, before Flower can say anything. It's only a regular season game, but they've gone a long time without winning against the Rangers and this proves they can do it, winning isn't impossible.

Sullivan comes in to say a few quick words about bouncing back, resilience, and playing the right way. Sidney nods in all the right places. The locker room clears rapidly after Sullivan leaves, guys eager to get home and into their beds.

Sid takes her shoes off at the door and pads around aimlessly once she gets home. She rolls her shoulders back and twists from side to side, but all in all, she doesn't have many aches lingering from the game. Thanks to Marc Staal's flu bug, no doubt. She winces and says a quick, silent apology. Sid's been injured and sick too many times to be happy about any player's misfortune, even Marc's. More importantly, it finally feels like things are starting to click with the team, new pieces slotting into place. Sid takes a deep breath and breathes out slowly. Maybe. Maybe.

**

Of course, they fucking lose to Calgary.

**

Sullivan says, "Poor effort, trap game, shake it off. Next up, New Jersey," before leaving the room to face the local media.

"Not our best," Sid says, standing in the middle of the room. "I know we can be better; I can be better. We won't stand a chance against the Devils unless we come out focused and committed to our game plan. We're still in this, guys."

There's a smattering of determined muttering around the room and then it's time to pack up for the trip to New Jersey. 

Geno and Tanger both bump their shoulders into hers on the way to the plan. Geno says, warmly, "Sid, best. Say we make playoffs, we make."

Sid wrinkles her nose at him, "You promised playoffs, not me."

Geno laughs. "We'll be there. You'll see."

"Yeah, you'll see," echoes Tanger as they board the plane.

**

Geno puts actions to words and opens the scoring in New Jersey. The team doesn't look back, dragging the Devils 6-1 in a building where the Penguins have a history of losing and it feels good to get such an impressive win.

Sid grins giddily at Flower and Flower beams back, strands of Flower's dark hair glued to her pale, sweaty face behind her mask. They break eye contact when Geno glides in to give Flower his customary whack on the head. 

"Good win," Geno says, turning to give Sid a slightly less enthusiastic tap on the shoulder.

Sid echoes, "Good win," and skates off to congratulate the rest of the guys as they file off of the ice. She watches Tanger and Flower execute their handshake before heading toward the tunnel. Sid makes sure to give Flower an extra tap on the butt when she passes by.

They take the bus up to New York and the feel is pleasantly exhausted. Guys chatting and joking around. The sound of Patric's laughter filters through the air over the seats. Sid nudges Flower and waits until Flower is looking at her, before she says, "Seriously, Patric?"

Flower raises a thin shoulder and says,"If you're really into dick," and Sid laughs and settles back into her seat.

**

Sid takes another longer shower when the team gets to the hotel and fires off a quick text to Patric before drying her hair: **Can I come over?**

 **426** : Patric sends back.

Sid pulls on a worn black t-shirt and soft grey sweatpants with Pittsburgh written down one leg and heads out. Patric answers the door on the first knock.

"Hey," Sid says, softly, stepping into the room, kicking carefully out of her yellow crocs. Patric's brows draw together slightly, but his mouth stays soft, expression open, curious. He's only slightly taller than Sid in his bare feet and basketball shorts. Patric's bare chest is just as magnificent as every other time Sid's been graced with its presence.

"You wanted something?" Patric trails off and Sid almost starts laughing. She wants something, alright.

Sid steps in closer and Patric's eyes widen. "I don't mean to put you on the spot," Sid says, lying through her teeth, "but I was hoping I could stay here tonight. "

"Yes," Patric says and his hands flex at his sides like he wants to reach out, but isn't sure of his welcome. It's almost comical seeing how Sid came to his room specifically to touch and be touched. She closes the distance between them and leans up slightly to brush her mouth against Patric's. He opens easily under the touch of Sid's lips and she takes the opportunity to wind her arms around Patric's shoulders and push her breasts against the hard wall of his chest. The press of Sid's body against his seems to break through Patric's lingering hesitation and his hands settle around Sid's waist briefly before dropping to grope at her ass. Sid smiles into their kiss and feels Patric's mouth tip up against hers. 

Sid nips Patric's bottom lip in acknowledgement and eases back to pull her shirt over her head and shimmy out of her sweatpants. When she steps out of her underwear, Patric's staring at her with his mouth open. He's still wearing his shorts. Sid huffs impatiently and hooks her fingers into both his boxer briefs and shorts. He obligingly steps out of them when she pushes the material down his thick thighs.

Fuck. Patric's thick all over. Sid urges him backwards toward the bed and climbs on after. Patric makes a tiny punched out noise when she settles her weight across his hips. Patric's dick is nestled between her legs and Sid rocks her hips a little meanly to see what other noises she can get out of him. Patric's teeth sink into his bottom lip, but he doesn't make another sound and that won't do. 

Sid leans down to steal a quick kiss before rolling over and bringing Patric with her, legs locked around his narrow hips. Patric grinds down against her and his vocal dam breaks, words falling from his mouth as he kisses his way down her neck. It's too bad, Sid thinks hazily, as Patric cups a breast up to his mouth, she can't understand any of them.

Patric's hair is fine between Sid's fingers as she clutches his head closer to her chest. "Fuck, I want your mouth," Sid says and Patric lets go of her nipple with a pop and shoulders his way eagerly in between her legs. He doesn't play any games, searching out Sid's clit and drawing on it strongly enough to have her hips bucking. "Ah, ah," Sid pants, rolling her hips up into Patric's mouth. Patric encourages her movement, humming deep in his throat and cupping Sid's ass to pull her closer. 

The muscles in Sid's thighs are trembling, heat curling in her lower belly and spooling outwards. She hooks a leg over Patric's shoulder and fucks up against his mouth until the tension breaks, leaving her limp and gasping for breath. Patric presses wet kisses along Sid's inner thigh as she struggles to gain some control over her body.

"Fuck," Sid sighs, petting Patric's head. "Come here, come here," she says and Patric crawls up her body and buries his face in her neck. Patric's back is rigid beneath Sid's hands and his dick is leaking against her thigh. "I'm going to suck your dick so good," Sid says and Patric groans into her skin.

Sid urges Patric over onto his back and smiles down at him. His mouth is red and slick, slack as he pants up at her. Sid curls her hand around Patric's dick, noting absently how her fingers meet around the thickest part of the shaft so she can tell Flower later, and leans down to tongue teasingly at the head. She's deliberately showy, rolling his dick along her lower lip before sucking lightly. Patric's hips jerk and he's talking again, Swedish falling from his mouth as Sid bobs her head up and down, keeping the suction tight. She cradles his balls in her hands and he babbles louder.

Patric whines pitifully when Sid draws back to jerk him off to completion. He comes across her chest, abs clenched attractively and heels digging into the bed sheets. "Fuck," he says, faintly in English as he relaxes back down and Sid grins. 

"I'm going to rinse off," Sid says, climbing off the edge of the bed. Patric flaps a weak hand at her, but otherwise doesn't move.

He's still sprawled out when Sid gets out of the shower, but sweetly compliant when Sid bullies him beneath the covers and snuggles up to his side.

Sid's almost asleep when Patric says, "Sid," quietly. She makes a sleepy noise and he asks, "Do you really think we're going to make the playoffs?"

"Absolutely," Sid says, drowsily, and drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge to complete a story in one month, writing totally in AO3 draft. Drafts are deleted automatically in 1 month. So this is me, rushing to beat the deadline.


End file.
